Midnight Meetings
by Rhien Elleth
Summary: After the events of Serenity, Inara is frustrated with Mal.


Title: Midnight Meetings

Author: Rhien Elleth

Fandom: _Firefly/Serenity_

Pairing: Mal/Inara

Rating: R

Summary: Post _Serenity_, Inara is frustrated with Mal

Spoilers: all

Words: 4400

Chinese phrases from the _Firefly _Lexicon and **amezri**.

Thanks go to** kistha** and **carmensandiego** for beta reading.

* * *

Inara understood nightmares, even if she didn't suffer from them herself. A Companion so afflicted couldn't perform her duties to the highest standard. She had long ago mastered the meditation techniques to train her mind not to dream, an arduous and difficult process many novices failed. It wasn't foolproof; the mind was too powerful not to subvert training and will, on occasion. But most of the time, Inara slept peacefully, dreamless. 

The same could not be said for the rest of _Serenity's_ crew, she knew. And if not nightmares, then insomnia stalked them. The endless dark of living shipboard could be problematic for some.

Of them all, River suffered the most. At first, her fragmented psyche had tormented her with bits and pieces of the horrible knowledge locked away inside; of Miranda and the atrocity perpetuated there, and the memory of what had been done to her to shape the living weapon she was. Now, Inara suspected it was other people's dreams keeping the girl awake at night. Her psychic abilities had only grown stronger since visiting Miranda and facing her demons.

It was as disquieting a thought as the girl herself, and one she ought to bring up with Mal at some point. If he ever stopped avoiding her. As happy as he'd seemed at the prospect of her staying aboard _Serenity_, he'd done little but elude her since - unsure, she thought, of where they went from here. No more so than Inara herself. Their feelings for one another might be obliquely acknowledged, but the problems inherent in those feelings had not disappeared.

She was a Companion, and Mal had odd, insulting, and antiquated ideas about her profession. And for her part, Companions rarely formed lasting attachments of an intimate nature. Too often, it interfered with the performance of their duties. It was why she'd left _Serenity_, before.

_Too late_, she acknowledged privately. Instead of setting up a lucrative arrangement with one or more of her wealthy clients, as she'd intended, she'd found herself training Companions-to-be. And Inara was far too honest with herself not to acknowledge why.

So while dreams did not keep her awake during sleep cycle, frustration and restlessness had begun to. She often found herself donning a robe and heading to the galley to make some tea. (A task which she could just as easily have done in her own shuttle, but that wouldn't have given her the opportunity to run across an equally sleepless Captain Reynolds, who she happened to know haunted the corridors of his precious ship when struck by insomnia.)

That first time, she entered the galley to find Jayne seated at their scarred wooden table, Vera laid out before him in a dozen pieces. His hair was tousled and his shirt wrinkled from sleep, but his eyes were bright and alert when he glanced up at her briefly. He barely nodded his head in greeting before turning his attention back to his favorite gun. He held the barrel in one hand, a scrap of faded red cloth in the other, and stroked Vera with more tenderness and warmth than Inara thought he'd ever shown to a woman.

If Jayne was up at this hour due to a nightmare, it wasn't one Inara wanted to know about. She'd've bet money the man didn't have them. Not for anything similar to her own reasons - training and discipline - but because he didn't have a conscience. Or at least he didn't seem to have much of one. A simple, selfish, powerful man was Jayne. Good to have on your side in a fight, so long as you didn't show him your back.

She went to the counter and busied herself with her tea, ignoring him as surely as he ignored her. Or she thought as much, until he actually spoke.

"Busy place tonight."

Inara actually started in surprise before she caught herself, a measure of just how off her usual game she was. She recovered quickly, setting the kettle on to heat.

"Is it?" she asked indifferently, though inwardly her heart sped up just the smallest amount. She wondered who else had been in the galley tonight.

"Yep."

She waited, but that was all he offered. Apparently his conversational sorties had been exhausted already. _Tzao-gao._ She had to press her lips firmly together to keep herself from questioning him further. The day hadn't yet come when she'd sunk to interrogating Jayne for information on Mal.

"I apologize for the intrusion, then," she said, instead.

He shrugged, and began piecing Vera back together again, his hands moving with a deft efficiency that belied the ignorant mien he so often displayed. Inara considered Jayne to be a prime example of what lack of education could engender in an otherwise perfectly capable person.

"Ain't no bother to me," he said. "Anyways, you're a sight better'n that girl, with all her long looks and outlandish ideas."

Amused, Inara poured steaming water over her tea leaves.

"River was here?" she asked, unnecessarily; there was only one person onboard Jayne referred to as 'that girl'.

"Full of crazy notions, as usual." Vera all in one piece again, he fell to inspecting every groove and line, eyes narrowed intently on his task. "Girl's still as crazy as she ever was, you ask me."

Intrigued, Inara eyed his back speculatively. Not that Jayne was ever easy around River, but no one could deny the girl had been much more…sane, since Miranda.

"What outlandish idea did she have?" she asked, curious.

"Huh?" Jayne frowned, giving Vera one last buff with the oiled cloth.

"You said she was full of outlandish ideas. What were they?"

"Ah, nothin'." He stood up, fixing an almost accusatory glare on her. "Man can't get any peace on this boat. People gotta pester him with all sorts of questions." Muttering to himself, something about women and their notions, he left.

Inara shook her head, wondering what River had said to spook him this time, and took her tea back to her shuttle. She wondered if Mal's absence meant he was sleeping peacefully, or if he somehow knew to avoid her even here, in the small hours of the night.

The next time she went for tea, it was Kaylee and Simon who were in the galley. Inara paused on the threshold, listening to their laughter and teasing, to the undercurrent of something more in their low voices.

Kaylee sat on the table where last night Vera had lain, her legs dangling over the edge. Simon stood between them, his hands on her waist. Kaylee was wearing the white, button down shirt the doctor usually wore, and little else. Her hair hung loose about her face, disheveled with more than sleep. Simon was barefoot and shirtless, the scar of the wound he'd taken fighting the Reavers a dimple of red beneath Kaylee's fingers. Their heads were bent close together, the plate of snacks they'd clearly come here to confiscate lying forgotten on the table beside them.

They didn't see her, standing in the archway, and she wasn't surprised. A cocoon of privacy surrounded them, the sort created by shared intimacy, perhaps even love. Inara felt her throat tighten as she listened to the low murmur of their voices, heard Simon whisper something that sounded suspiciously like _xīn ài_, just before he cupped Kaylee's face and kissed her.

Inara crept back to her shuttle without her tea that night, torn between happiness for Kaylee, and a sharp pang of jealousy that felt unworthy of her. It made her feel small and petty; she kept to her shuttle during sleep cycle for the rest of the week.

Dinners, then, were the only times she saw Mal. And those affairs, once boisterous and happy, had taken on a strained, subdued feel. All of them felt the emptiness of Wash's chair too keenly. Zoe ate mechanically, speaking only when directly addressed, her eyes on her plate lest she look up and be faced afresh with her husband's absence. Inara felt deeply for the other woman. Loss and grief could shred even the strongest spirit.

River played with her food more than she ate it, despite Simon's urgings otherwise. Inara suspected the dinner table was fraught with too many emotions, felt too deeply, for the girl not to be affected by them. She seemed to divide her attention equally between Simon and Kaylee, and the taciturn Jayne, who growled and barked at her whenever she spoke to him. Considering Zoe's state of mind and the tension between her and Mal, Inara wasn't surprised by River's gravitation toward the other three.

It was a sad state indeed, when the murky intricacies of Jayne Cobb's thoughts were more appealing than her own, or Mal's.

She tried to corner him, after, but he was prepared for that. There was always some urgent repair that needed his attention, or something about the engine he needed to speak with Kaylee about.

It was frustrating enough to send her back to her midnight galley excursions. She wasn't particularly surprised to run into Zoe on one of them. Instead of her own chair, Mal's second in command sat in her dead husband's. In one hand she held a cup of tea long gone cold, from the lack of steam rising from it; in the other, she twirled a small circlet of gold on the table top. It was, Inara saw with a pang of empathy, Wash's wedding ring.

"_Duì bù qì_," she said softly, stopping just inside the door. "I didn't mean to disturb you." Thus far, Zoe had shown no inclination to share her grief with anyone, with the possible exception of Mal. (And Inara was grateful to find she felt no jealousy over that, at least.)

Zoe closed her hand over the ring, too late to hide it, if that was her intention. She looked up, her dark eyes dry and her face expressionless.

"You're not," she said. "I'm just having some tea." As proof, she lifted her cup for a sip, only to grimace and set it down again, untouched. "Or I was, when it was still warm."

"I was just about to make some," Inara offered. "Let me fix you a fresh cup."

Zoe shrugged, indifferent, but Inara set about brewing enough water for two, regardless. The sound of metal on wood made her look up, to find Zoe once again spinning the gold band on the tabletop. She pressed her lips together, debating. Zoe's countenance had made it clear in the past that she wanted no platitudes or proffered shoulders from the rest of the crew, but this was also the first time Inara had seen her here in the middle of the night.

"It must be hard," she said quietly, a moment later. "Sleeping in the same room you shared with him, the same bed."

"It is," Zoe admitted after a tense moment.

She said nothing else, and Inara finished steeping the tea leaves in silence. She carried the mugs over to the table, and placed one before the other woman as she sat beside her. Zoe carefully set the ring down, wrapping both of her long-fingered hands around the cup as she stared fixedly at the gleaming circlet.

"Everything still smells like him," she said finally, "but I can't bring myself to clean the sheets. It hurts to lie there, surrounded by his scent, his clothes, his gorram toys, but at the same time, it's a comfort." She looked at Inara, smiled bitterly. "_Zhen sa_, isn't it?"

"Absolutely not," she responded firmly, and gave Zoe's arm a comforting squeeze. "It's perfectly natural to want to keep him with you, Zoe, even if it hurts."

But the touch had been an overstep; Zoe visibly withdrew from her, pulling her arm free by lifting her cup to drink, her eyes flinching away from Inara's gaze. _Tzao gao._ Before she could offer an apology, Zoe was changing the subject.

"What brings you here at this hour, or do I even need to ask?"

"_Shen me_?"

"You and the Captain have been circling each other for awhile, now. When are you going to stop circling and do something about it?"

Inara was momentarily bereft of what to say.

"I— he's being—"

"_Dai rou mu ji,_ I know," Zoe said calmly. "He can't really help that; it's his way, most of the time. Which is why you're going to have to force the situation."

"Ah…"

How had she lost control of this conversation? It was so unlike her, not to mention what it said of her training. Zoe rolled her eyes and stood up.

"_Gou huang tang_." She picked up the wedding band and held it in the palm of her hand. "Kaylee and Simon have more sense than either of you, young as they are. Only one certainty in the 'verse: everybody dies. If you have a chance at a piece of happiness before that happens, you're luckier than most people. And you're _sha gua_ if you don't grab it with both hands."

And then she left, back to her quarters, and the pieces of Wash she couldn't yet bear to let go.

Inara berated herself in a litany of Chinese all the way back to her shuttle. She'd meant to offer Zoe comfort; instead she'd been the one being counseled, albeit in a rough and blunt sort of way. Her face burned with embarrassment and self rebuke. Her frustrations with Mal bore little significance next to Zoe's loss.

She had trouble sleeping that night. She lay awake, staring up at the shuttle ceiling for hours, turning everything over in her mind. Maybe Mal wasn't the only one avoiding the issue. In her heart of hearts, Inara knew the next step in their relationship would bring everything they'd struggled against to the forefront. For Mal, sex was not insignificant, and sleeping with him was likely to give the man ideas, like thinking he'd have a say in what she chose to do with her profession.

And as long as she was being honest, Inara had to admit sex with him would be far from insignificant for her, as well, despite her trained detachment. But the alternative, this limbo, couldn't continue indefinitely. They either had to move forward, or step back. Stepping back would mean leaving again, she'd have no other choice. And she wasn't prepared to do that, not yet.

It seemed Zoe was right. So far Inara had pursued Mal with a kind of passive persistence. It was time to be aggressive.

----------------------------------------

Mal seemed to think he could use the presence of others to keep any converse he had with Inara from turning personal. He was gravely mistaken.

She arrived in the galley for breakfast that morning just as Mal was sitting down to his. Zoe, River, and Jayne were also seated around the table. Kaylee and Simon were no doubt otherwise occupied, a likelihood that only served to steel her resolve to act.

"Morning, Inara," Mal said as she glided in, a cheerful half smile twisting his lips. But then, he could afford to be cheerful; he felt safe enough, with the others there. "Nice day, isn't it?"

_Oh, isn't it just,_ she thought, while saying something appropriately noncommittal as she took her seat. Jayne eyed the Captain suspiciously, while Zoe simply shook her head and took a sip of coffee.

"What's so nice about it?" Jayne asked. "You got us a job?"

"Not yet, but I'm working on it."

"Captain's just glad to be alive, Jayne," said Zoe, though her voice held just a hint of sarcasm. Not enough for Jayne to catch, but certainly enough to have Mal eyeing her across the table.

River, wide eyed, said nothing, but her gaze darted from one person to another. She'd been perched precariously on her chair, her legs folded beneath her. Now she slid down until she was sitting properly, and picked up a piece of bread to nibble on. Settling in, Inara thought, for the fireworks.

Inara poured herself a cup of tea with precise, graceful motions. She folded the sleeve of her robe out of the way, just as she did when serving clients. She'd chosen the red silk with tiny gold flowers embroidered along the hem and collar. It gave her a soft, sultry look, so she usually reserved it for private meetings with clients, not breakfast with the crew. Her hair was up in a deceptively casual knot, exposing the graceful curve of her neck, not loose about her shoulders as she normally wore it in the mornings. Today was a day for change.

By the time she lifted the teacup to her mouth, she had everyone's attention.

"You expecting a client today, Inara?" Mal asked, his tone a study in casual. "Way out here in the black?"

She arched an eyebrow, carefully set her cup down again.

"Of course not, Mal. Why do you ask?"

He gave a start at her use of his given name. She almost always addressed him as Captain when discussing business, especially in front of the crew. Considering her plan of action, using his name instead of his rank was the least of the shocks he was going to get this morning.

"No reason. Just…" he gestured to her attire. "You look like you have somewhere to be…or someone to be with."

Inara spread butter on a piece of bread, her expression serene. She considered it the performance of her career, given how her heart was hammering against her ribs.

"Do I?" she asked archly. "Well, who knows what the day will bring."

Zoe suddenly coughed into her coffee, rather unsuccessfully trying to hide her snort of laughter. Mal looked across at his first mate, then back to Inara. He tilted his chair back, eyes narrowed.

"There something going on here I'm unaware of, ladies?"

"Probably," Inara said with a shrug. "Seeing as you have all the perception of a _xiā hóu zi_."

The legs of Mal's chair hit the floor with a distinctive _thump_, his sunny disposition of earlier obliterated.

"Something you want to say to me, Inara?" he asked, clipped and dangerous.

"Oh, yes," she responded sweetly.

He stood up, looming over her in that way of his that probably worked just fine when intimidating backworld thugs and petty criminals.

"Then maybe we should take this conversation somewhere more private."

_Oh no, Mal_, she thought, rising smoothly to her feet. _Too late for that._

"Don't leave on our account," Jayne said predictably. "A fight could be the most excitement on this gorram boat all month."

But Inara had no intention of fighting with Mal, at least not right this second. He was clearly braced for one, his eyes glinting with that belligerence that always got under her skin. He opened his mouth to say something no doubt insulting, and that was as far as he got. Because she reached up and grabbed his face with both hands, and kissed him. She put every bit of Companion training she'd ever had into that kiss, and all of her frustration with him besides. His hands closed over her shoulders reflexively, to push her away, she thought. But he didn't. How could he? Mal Reynolds hadn't stood a chance from the moment she'd swept into the galley this morning.

His mouth was warm and firm, his breath catching sharply as her tongue slid across his, a sensuous tease meant to intrigue before darting away again, flicking over his bottom lip and back into his mouth in an erotic game of cat and mouse. Her own heartbeat thundered in her ears at the audacity of what she was doing. _Thank God it was working. _She slid her hands into his hair when he didn't push her away.

Dimly, she heard the others as a babble of voices from farther away than the few feet that separated them.

"…or, this could be excitin' too."

"It's so sweet, like sugar."

"Jayne, River. Let's just give the Captain and Inara some privacy."

"What for? S'long as they're puttin' on a show…"

"Hey guys, what's – oh."

This last was Kaylee, and as if her voice triggered some sort of signal, Mal and Inara broke apart. They were both breathing heavily, and Mal hadn't yet the presence of mind to remove his hands from her shoulders, so Inara stayed still and held his shocked gaze with her own.

"Oh, but that's shiny!" Kaylee was saying breathlessly. "The Cap'n finally making his move on Inara."

"Uh, Kaylee," said Zoe, trying to usher everyone out, even though Jayne had kicked his feet up onto the table and looked fixed to stay indefinitely. "That's not exactly what's happened. Let's all just give them some _privacy._ Jayne! _Ni kuài zǒu!_"

Inara collected herself and took a deliberate step away from Mal, out from beneath his hands.

"Nevermind, Zoe," she said coolly. "I'm finished here."

And she glided from the room just as gracefully as she'd glided in, the delicate fall of her robe hiding the slight wobble of her legs, and left Mal sputtering for words behind her. She nodded to Kaylee and Simon as she eased past, and only let the satisfaction she was feeling creep across her face after she'd left them behind. She could hear the sudden clash of voices filling the void of silence she'd left: Jayne, protesting; Kaylee, excited; Zoe, calming; and Mal, angry and bewildered. Good. She'd bet all the platinum in the 'verse he'd be knocking on her shuttle door by hour's end.

It didn't even take that long. He caught up to her in the hangar, before she reached her shuttle. His fingers curled around her arm, pulling her to a halt.

"Just what the hell was that?" He was angry. Angry was better than studied indifference, so Inara considered that progress.

"If I have to explain it to you, Mal, you're in more need of help than I can provide."

"Listen Inara, I'm in no mood for games or fool—"

She leaned in and kissed him again, silencing him. She kept it short, though no less intense. And when _she_ pulled away, not Mal (who appeared to be struck momentarily speechless again), she smoothed his hair back with gentle fingers, and said,

"I'm tired of the stalemate, Mal. It's time to make a decision. Either we move forward, or we step back."

He cleared his throat. "I'm guessing I don't need to ask which direction you're in favor of."

"And you? Which direction are you in favor of?"

He cupped her face in his hand, brushed his fingers over her cheek. And kissed her. _Thank God._ Relief swept through her, making her weak. There was always the chance, with Mal, that stubbornness would override reason. Or in this case, emotion.

She swayed forward, her fingers curling around the ridiculous suspenders he always wore. It was different, kissing Mal, than anyone else. Given her profession, it was inevitable that Inara would experience a multitude of kisses in her life. None of them had felt like this; tasted like this. A Companion knew the finest vintages of wine available in the Core, could discern easily between the slightest variation in age, vineyard, crop…Mal tasted like none of them. He was a shot of whisky on a cold night, warming her from the inside out until she felt almost feverish.

His fingers slid into her hair, and it came tumbling down around her shoulders, the pins she'd used to twist it up that morning falling through the grate beneath their feet. Breath uneven, Mal moved his lips from her mouth to her neck, just below her ear. It fanned the flames already licking at her belly, and she took a step back, intending to lead him into her shuttle. He stopped her with a hand on her arm, lifting his head so their eyes met.

"Not there," he said. "Come back to my quarters with me."

For just a second, she was confused. Her shuttle was right here, not halfway across the ship, and her bed would be much more comfortable than his bunk. And then it clicked, fell into place, and hurt flashed through her. He didn't want to make love in her bed, where he knew she entertained clients.

He knew without words that she'd figured his reasons. She could see it in his eyes, in the steady way he kept them unflinching on hers. He knew, and he didn't care. This was the price of taking their relationship to the next level, and if she didn't want to pay it, he would understand, but he also wouldn't yield on the point. It was her decision, her choice.

It hurt. Oh, God, it hurt. But if she refused him now, turned him away over this, there wouldn't be another chance. Neither her pride, nor his, would allow it. So she swallowed hers and said,

"All right."

They went to his bunk, the claustrophobic little hatch he slept in, and made love on sheets none of her sister Companions would have deigned to use as cleaning rags. Inara didn't care, not with his hands on her, his mouth worshipping her in a way he never had with words. Flesh against flesh, they were more honest together than they'd ever managed before. Her fingers slid over sweat dampened skin as she arched against him, gasping. If things fell apart, at least she had this. Love for love's sake.

It was a first for her. She didn't share that with Mal, not yet. She wasn't ready, and neither was he.

There were no whispered endearments in the darkness. No pretty declarations. Inara didn't want them, didn't need them. It was enough to feel him inside her, to hear him gasp her name as he tensed and shuddered. It was enough to let herself go, swept away on a sea of desire and pleasure that eclipsed all else.

She stayed, afterwards. Held his head against her breast and stroked his hair while he slept, peaceful. No nightmares, tonight. No insomnia to send either of them wandering _Serenity's _walkways. She didn't know what tomorrow would bring, or how they would work out the issues between them. It didn't matter yet. For tonight, coasting through the black, they had peace.

It was enough.

_:La fine:_

Glossary of Chinese:

_Tzao-gao: _ Damn it

_xīn ài: _beloved

_Duì bù qì: _I'm sorry

_Zhen sa_: A piece of nonsense

_Shen me: _excuse me?

_Dai rou mu ji: _Dumb as a wooden chicken

_Gou huang tang: _enough of this nonsense

_sha gua: _fools

_xiā hóu zi: _a blind monkey

_Ni kuài zǒu: _move your ass


End file.
